Faith in Moderation Islamist Parties in Jordan and Yemen

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Faith in Moderation

Islamist Parties in Jordan and Yemen

Does political inclusion produce ideological moderation? Jillian

Schwedler argues that examining political behavior alone provides

insufficient evidence of moderation because it leaves open the possibility

that political actors might act as if they are moderate while harboring

radical agendas. Through a comparative study of the Islamic ActionFront (IAF) party in Jordan and the Islah party in Yemen, she argues

that the IAF has become more moderate through participation in plu-

ralist political processes, while the Islah party has not. The variation is

explained in part by internal group organization and decision-making

processes, but particularly by the ways in which the IAF has been able

to justify its new pluralist practices on Islamic terms while the Islah

party has not. Based on nearly four years of field research in Jordan

and Yemen, Schwedler contributes both a new theory of ideological

moderation and substantial new detail about the internal workings ofthese two powerful Islamist political parties.

Jillian Schwedler is Assistant Professor of Government and Politics at

the University of Maryland and Chair of the Middle East Research

and Information Project (MERIP), publishers of Middle East Report.

She has received awards and fellowships from the National Science

Foundation, the Social Science Research Council, and the Fulbright

Scholars Program, among others. Dr. Schwedlers publications include

three edited volumes: Toward Civil Society in the Middle East? (1995),Islamist Parties in Jordan (1997), and the award-winning Understand-

ing the Contemporary Middle East, with Deborah J. Gerner (2004).

Her articles have appeared in Comparative Politics, Journal of Democ-

racy, SAIS Review of International Affairs, Social Movement Studies,

and Middle East Policy, among other journals. She is currently working

on a book project on protest and policing in Jordan and a collaborative

project on the repression-dissent nexus in the Middle East.


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Faith in Moderation


JILLIAN SCHWEDLER

University of Maryland


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cambridge university pressCambridge, New York, Melbourne, Madrid, Cape Town, Singapore, Sao Paulo

Cambridge University Press

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Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9780521851138

Jillian Schwedler 2006

This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exceptionand to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements,

no reproduction of any part may take place without

the written permission of Cambridge University Press.

First published 2006

Printed in the United States of America

A catalog record for this publication is available from the British Library.

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Schwedler, Jillian.

Faith in moderation : Islamist parties in Jordan and Yemen / Jillian Schwedler.

p. cm.

Includes bibliographical references and index.

isbn-13 978-0-521-85113-8 (hardback)

isbn-10 0-521-85113-0 (hardback)

1. Political culture Jordan. 2. Political parties Jordan. 3. Islam and politics Jordan.

4. Political culture Yemen. 5. Political parties Yemen. 6. Islam and politics

Yemen. I. Title.

jq1833.a91.s39 2006324.2533082dc22 2005027921

isbn-13 978-0-521-85113-8 hardback

isbn-10 0-521-85113-0 hardback

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and does not guarantee that any content on such

Web sites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.


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For Mom and Dad,

Wish You Were Here


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Contents

List of Figures page viii

List of Tables ix

Preface xi

Acknowledgments xv

List of Abbreviations xix

Note on Transliterations and Translations xxi

1 Moderation and the Dynamics of Political Change 1

2 Political Liberalization as a Mechanism of Control 34

3 Public Political Space 77

4 Cultural Dimensions of Political Contestation 117

5 Justification and Moderation 149

6 Conclusion: Does Inclusion Lead to Moderation? 192

References 217Index 245

vii


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List of Figures

1.1 Liberalization Producing Moderation through Inclusion page 23

1.2 Liberalization Producing Multiple Dimensions of Change 24

viii


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List of Tables

1.1 Islamists and Liberalization in Jordan and Yemen page 30

2.1 Jordans Elected National Assemblies 41

2.2 Advisors to King Hussein Concerning Responses to the1989 Riots 49

4.1 Ideational Dimensions of a Cultural Field 126

4.2 Themes in Elections Platforms in Yemen, 1993 1385.1 Theme of Womens Rights in Elections Platforms in

Yemen, 1993 186

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Preface

Grappling with the question of the inclusion of Islamists in democratic

processes has been personally challenging. As a progressive, I have fre-

quently lent my voice to those who have argued against cultural expla-

nations for why few Muslim societies are democratic. I am committed

to encouraging democratization on a global scale, although I question

whether positive change can be realized through external intervention.

I believe that international standards of human rights should be applied

throughout the Middle East and Muslim world (indeed, globally) and that

the greatest obstacles to the realization of those norms and practices are

the repressive and nondemocratic regimes that prevail in the region. It is

a sad truth, as well, that many of these nondemocratic regimes came to

power, have remained in power, or have been substantially strengthened

by direct support from democratic nations. I am shamed and embarrassed

by these ongoing practices.

An honest commitment to democratization in the Middle East andMuslim world requires recognition that Islamists are legitimate political

actors with substantial constituencies. They cannot be excluded wholesale

from the political arena on either normative or practical grounds. Yet I

recognize that Islamist groups do not aspire to the same secular vision of

freedom and equality that I embrace. They may, in fact, aspire to banish

that vision from the political arena. The tension sometimes, the open

conflict between these personal commitments is not easily resolved.

Nor, unfortunately, is it easily addressed. Most scholarship on theMiddle East is haunted by what might be characterized as the Edward

SaidBernard Lewis divide: striving to understand Middle Eastern cultures

and societies on their own terms (Said 1978, 1997) versus viewing Middle

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xii Preface

Eastern and particularly Islamic culture as partly or wholly responsible

for the regions failure to follow global trends of democratization (Lewis

1994, 2001, 2003). The intellectual climate, particularly since Septem-

ber 11, 2001, but also previously, has virtually denied a full hearing toforthright discussion of the tensions between commitments to democra-

tization and secular liberalism. The debates are so polarized that I some-

times find myself defending Islamists alongside apologists whose will-

ingness to overlook the regressive dimensions of many Islamist agendas

makes me extremely uncomfortable.

I have contended, along with others, that not all Islamists are radical,

and I believe that to be true. I have written that Islamists are unlikely to

win the majorities that would enable them to overturn new democraticprocesses, and I also believe that to be true. But among the hundreds of

moderate Islamists I have interviewed, I have encountered tremendous

anti-Semitism (not to be confused with anti-Zionism a legitimate polit-

ical position that should be decoupled from racism). I have close friends

who have lost partners and family to acts of political violence perpetrated

by extremist Islamists. I am nervous when Islamists ask about my hus-

band, as I wonder whether they will recognize his name as Jewish. I doubt

that as a white, red-haired American female, I could conduct my research

as easily if certain Islamist groups were successful in implementing their

agendas. Nor do I not want my friends in the region to be subjected to

conservative and sometimes regressive social programs even if a major-

ity of the citizenry supports them. But because the political climate is so

polarized and the stakes are so high, progressives seldom talk about these

tensions, even among ourselves. We are all worse off for that silence.

The (largely) unspoken obstacle to such frank debate is that those

of us who study the Middle East recognize that our scholarship may

add evidence to one position or the other in a public discourse full ofcaricatures and half-truths. Fearful of contributing to lines of reasoning

that obscure complex processes and/or support undesirable policies, we

sometimes frame our arguments in ways that ultimately weaken both

progressive politics and our intellectual contributions. The problem is

not that we hold normative commitments, but that we routinely fail to

comment on these and other factors that influence the direction and shape

of our scholarship.

I recognize that a great deal is at stake in the deployment of categories,such as moderate and radical, and in the characterization of Islamist par-

ticipation in democratic political practices. In particular, the question of

moderation in the Middle East is charged because it tends to imply that


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Preface xiii

Islamists may uniquely threaten the prospects for democratization. In this

regard, encouraging moderation is often shorthand for the project of turn-

ing Islamists into democrats, if not liberals. My intention is not to limit

the discussion of moderation to Islamists nor to frame the overall theoret-ical debate around promoting democratization per se. Rather, I hope to

pose a more normatively neutral question about how groups move from a

relatively closed ideology to one that is more open, tolerant, and pluralist.

I take seriously the concern that we can never know what any Islamist

or any person, for that matter believes or intends. My claims are modest

and primarily theoretical, though I believe they are also highly relevant

to practical debates about democratization. I hope that my transparency

regarding my normative commitments will better inform readers as tomy intellectual motivations and that, in turn, readers will be generous in

judging the success of this effort on its own terms.


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Acknowledgments

Book acknowledgments typically begin with formal thanks to institutions

and granting agencies and move to more personal expressions of gratitude

to friends (with veiled references to heavy drinking), family, and partner.

I must start with the most personal, however, as this project spanned the

loss of several lives and the introduction of several new ones. My father

died as I entered graduate school and my mother died as I completed

my dissertation. My dad was endlessly supportive, though I suspect he

worried when his little girl decided to run off to study the Middle East.

My mom saw me through most of this project and was overjoyed by

the possibilities I faced compared to her own difficult and often unhappy

life. They were incredible parents, and my world will never be quite right

without them. My best friend from graduate school died tragically days

before my first job interview, and the loss paralyzed me for months. A

dear friend in Jordan who shared my commitment to progressive politics

lost a devastating struggle with cancer. During those black periods, myhusband and my truest love kept me alive, though I watched helplessly as

he suffered when his mother died a year before my own. For twenty-one

years, he has given me his undying love, steadfast support, and countless

laughs. For this and more, I adore him endlessly. We started our own

family, as many do, with a dog, a beautiful stray pit bull with grateful

brown eyes. As I finish this manuscript, two new little people, my twin

sons, happily disrupt my work with their squeals of laughter. I hope that

they find life as joyous as I have, not withstanding the pain of losing lovedones. These precious lives, lost and found, have made life wonderful:

Marvin Schwedler, Diana Schwedler, Janet Sherman, Aida Dabbas, John

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xvi Acknowledgments

Vantine, Joel Sherman, and my big little guys, Jake and Nick Ronin. And,

of course, Ruby.

I owe special thanks to my dearest friends whose wise council, tireless

support, and patient reading of various drafts are responsible for anythingof value in this book: Paul Amar, Shiva Balaghi, Kathleen Cavanaugh,

Janine Clark, Geoff Hartman, Marc Lynch, Pete Moore, Agnieszka

Paczynska, Curt Ryan, and Lisa Wedeen. Colleagues and friends sup-

ported me at every turn, sharing precious contacts in the field and many

cheap and interesting bottles of wine: Abla Amawi, Maha Abu Ayyash,

Deborah Boardman, Marion Boulby, Laurie Brand, Bassel Burgan, Sheila

Carapico, Greg Gause, Deborah Misty Gerner, Iris Glossimer, Lisa

Hajjar, Kimberly Katz, Saeda Kilani, Ellen Lust-Okar, Awni Nabulsi,Scott Nilson, Dick Norton, Megan Perry, Lynne Rienner, Noha Sadek,

Katri Saari Seiberg, Rajiv Sethi, Eric Thompson, Chris Toensing, Jeff

Togman, Bob Vitalis, James Vreeland, Shelagh Weir, Derek Wildman,

and Anna Wurth. Dermot OBrien should also be included, but I want

to express special thanks to him for suggesting Faith in Moderation as

the title of a talk I gave at New York University in the mid-1990s.

My incredible dissertation committee provided inspiration, support,

and extraordinarily challenging questions: Timothy Mitchell (Chair),

Stathis Kalyvas, Farhad Kazemi, Adam Przeworski, and Elisabeth Wood.

My MERIP family has been a source of inspiration and encouragement

for more than a decade. In addition to those mentioned, I am particularly

grateful to Joey Beinin, Joe Stork, and Michelle Woodward, who located

the cover photo.

New colleagues at the University of Maryland have made my work

stronger and broader, and they have become cherished friends: Charles

Butterworth, Ken Conca, Christian Davenport, Virginia Haufler, Marc

Morje Howard, Karen Kaufmann, Mark Lichbach, James Riker, ShibleyTelhami, and Lois Vietri. Like many scholars, I am indebted to the chal-

lenging questions of doctoral students: Cornel Ban, Diana Boros, Laryssa

Chomiak, Carter Johnson, Joanne Manrique, and Shana Marshall. In

particular, four students provided continual support and careful readings

during the final two years of revision: Waseem El-Rayes, Samir Fayyaz,

Maren Milligan, and Neha Sahgal. Participants in the DC Area Work-

shop on Contentious Politics provided critical readings and invaluable

suggestions on many parts of this project, as did the participants of theWorkshop on Contentious Politics at Columbia University and its tireless

organizer, Chuck Tilly.


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Acknowledgments xvii

Financial support for research and writing was extremely generous: a

Fulbright Dissertation Fellowship, the Fulbright New Century Scholars

Program, the Near and Middle East Research and Training Initiative of

the Social Science Research Council, the American Institute for YemeniStudies, and the Council of American Overseas Research Centers.

Innumerable individuals in Jordan and Yemen made my work possi-

ble, but I am particularly indebted to those who generously shared their

knowledge and tirelessly endured my sometimes pedantic questions. The

members and leaders of the Muslim Brotherhood and IAF in Jordan and

the Islah party in Yemen were extraordinarily generous in opening their

libraries, archives, and homes to me. Mustafa Hamarneh, Hani Hourani,

Nasr Taha Mustafa, Muhammad

Abd al-Malik al-Mutawakkil, Muham-mad Qahtan, and Faris Saqqaf were especially generous with their time

and endured long conversations about my research. Abd al-Rahman Ishaq

and his family welcomed me repeatedly into their home, giving me an

extended family in Yemen. They have all enriched my life as well as my

understanding of their countries.

Several institutions have provided additional support in a variety of

forms. In the United States: New York Universitys Kevorkian Center for

Near East Studies and Department of Politics and University of Mary-

lands Department of Government and Politics. In Jordan: the American

Center for Oriental Research, the Jordanian-American Binational Ful-

bright Commission, the Arab Archives Institute, the Center for Strategic

Studies at the University of Jordan, and al-Urdun al-Jadid Research Cen-

ter. In Yemen: the American Institute for Yemeni Studies, the Yemeni

Center for Research and Studies, the Center for Strategic Studies, and the

Center for Future Studies.

My editor at Cambridge University Press, Lewis Bateman, was extraor-

dinarily supportive and patient during the preparation of this manuscript.Christine Dunn was a terrific copy editor, and two anonymous reviewers

provided detailed and substantive comments that significantly improved

the manuscript.

Unconventional institutional support provided sanity through the

storm that is graduate school: Stromboli Pizza on St. Marks, the Holiday

Cocktail Lounge, The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, Mistress Formika at

the Pyramid Club, Click and Drag at Mother, and New York City.


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List of Abbreviations

AAIA Aden-Abyan Islamic Army, Yemen

GID General Intelligence Department (mukhabarat), Jordan

GPC General Popular Congress party, Yemen

HAMAS Islamic Resistance Movement, Palestine

IAF Islamic Action Front party, Jordan

IJM Islamic Jihad Movement, Yemen

IMF International Monetary Fund

NCC National Consultative Council, Jordan

NDF National Democratic Front, South Yemen

NGO nongovernmental organization

NSP National Socialist Party, Jordan

PDRY Peoples Democratic Republic of Yemen (South Yemen)

PELP Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine

PKK Kurdish Workers Party

PLO Palestinian Liberation Organization

ROY Republic of Yemen (united Yemen)SCCO Supreme Coordination Council of the Opposition, Yemen

USAID U.S. Agency for International Development

YAR Yemen Arab Republic (North Yemen)

YCCSS Yemeni Center for Cultural and Strategic Studies

YSP Yemeni Socialist Party

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Note on Transliterations and Translations

In an effort to make this work of political ethnography accessible to a

non-Arabic-speaking audience, I have adopted a modified transliteration

system that represents only the medial ayn, ghayn, and hamza, except in

rendering proper names. Arabic terms appear in italics, often parenthet-

ically following the English use: Council of Deputies (majlis al-nuwab).

Because Arabic plurals take many forms, I have noted where I give the

Arabic term in the singular: Islamic religious opinions (sing. fatwa). I

have avoided pluralizing Arabic words by adding s. Words and names

common in the English language take the familiar form (thus, Amman

and not Amman) and when an individual has a preferred spelling of

his name in English (thus, Saad Eddin Ibrahim and not Saad al-Din

Ibrahim). I have reviewed my translations and transliterations for accu-

racy and consistency, but if a careful Arabic reader finds fault with some

of my renderings I hope he or she forgives me for erring on the side of

accessibility. Unless noted, all translations are my own.

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Faith in Moderation



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1

Moderation and the Dynamics of Political Change

Do Islamist political parties threaten emerging democratic processes?1

According to some, these groups are uncommitted to democratic norms

and seek to exploit electoral processes to achieve nondemocratic ends.

Others argue that the inclusion of Islamists is necessary because they rep-

resent a significant segment of their societies and because excluding them

is a surefire means of promoting radicalism rather than encouraging mod-

eration. Embedded in this latter argument is the idea that those who are

included will become more moderate and tolerant as they learn to engage

in democratic processes. Theoretically, we know surprisingly little about

how this process might actually unfold. On a practical level, the stakes

of getting political inclusion right of deciding whom to include and

whom to exclude are extraordinarily high, particularly when pluralist

institutions and practices are not yet well established.

Yet the relationship between inclusion and moderation is more com-

plicated than typically portrayed, and two distinct propositions thatexclusion increases radicalism, and inclusion increases moderation are

frequently conflated. Inclusion and exclusion are often posited as a con-

tinuum, with moderation greatest in democratic, pluralist, and politically

inclusive societies, and radicalism greatest in exclusive, repressive, and

authoritarian societies. If increased inclusion means decreased radical-

ism, then inclusion is certainly preferable on both normative and practical

1 To be sure, inclusion and exclusion do not capture the whole range of options availableto state actors. Repression, when severe and comprehensive, can effectively eliminate a

movement as a viable political challenger, as was the case with Syrias harsh treatment

of the Muslim Brotherhood, culminating in the 1982 Hamah massacre. Various forms of

accommodation and co-optation are other options, examined in Chapter 2.

1


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2 Faith in Moderation

grounds. But are these relations as strong as they are assumed to be? Even

more, are the implied causal mechanisms for moderation and radical-

ization well established on their own, let alone as producing consistent

effects with movement along a continuum?I argue that the mechanisms that explain precisely how inclusion and

exclusion produce moderation and radicalism, respectively, are poorly

specified and should be unpacked and studied separately. This study

explores one side of this puzzle, the implied causal relationship between

inclusion and moderation, through a structured comparative study of two

Islamist parties. Jordans Islamic Action Front ( Jabhat al-Aml al-Islami,

or IAF) and the Yemeni Congregation for Reform (Tajamma al-Yamani

li al-Islah, commonly called the Islah or reform party)

2

both participatein pluralist political processes within otherwise nondemocratic contexts.

Neither Jordan nor Yemen comes close to meeting the most basic require-

ments for a democracy, whether in terms of the Schumpeterian minimal

procedural conception emphasizing competitive elections and represen-

tation (Schumpeter 1942; Przeworski 1991) or in terms of substantive

definitions of democracy in which broad participation and egalitarian

distributive arrangements are emphasized (Pateman 1970; Mouffe 1992;

Benhabib 1996; Cammack 1997; Shapiro 1999; Young 2000). Yet both

regimes have enacted limited political openings as part of their loud and

oft-repeated declarations of commitment to democracy (dimuqratiyyah),

including the introduction of pluralist political practices (ta addudiyyah)

within a multiparty system, the guarantee of basic human rights (huquq al-

insan), and fairly regular elections for national and municipal assemblies.

These concepts are often left poorly defined, though they are frequently

invoked.

In this chapter, I first examine the debates that inform this compara-

tive study, including approaches to democratic transitions, the distinctionbetween moderates and radicals, and the hypothesis that political inclu-

sion increases moderation. After unpacking what I term the inclusion-

moderation hypothesis in some detail, I suggest a mechanism that explains

why some strongly ideological groups may become more moderate as they

engage in pluralist practices, while similar groups participating in com-

parable processes may not. Rejecting the view that countries like Jordan

2 The English word group is often used for the Arabic jamaa (tajamma is a related form),but group fails to capture the sense of a community congregating or gathering, that is, acommunity assembled. In English, the word congregation best captures more dimen-sions of the Arabic term than does group.


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Moderation and the Dynamics of Political Change 3

and Yemen are stalled along the road to democracy, I argue that in

each country public political space has been significantly restructured to

accommodate and even encourage pluralist practices, even though non-

democratic regimes remain firmly in place and elected assemblies playno role in governance. Have the Islamist parties in these two cases become

more moderate as a result of their participation in multiparty elections

and their adoption of new practices? Both parties have changed, but not

in similar let alone consistent ways. While Jordans IAF has become more

moderate over time, Yemens Islah party has not. What explains this vari-

ation? Despite interesting cumulative effects, at a very minimum these

changes cannot be characterized as movement along a single moderate-

radical continuum. Even where the IAF has become more moderate onsome issues, it retains conservative and sometimes even radical positions

on other issues. Instead, I define moderation more narrowly as movement

from a relatively closed and rigid worldview to one more open and toler-

ant of alternative perspectives. I examine multiple dimensions of change

as each Islamist group begins to participate in an evolving field of pluralist

political contestation and identify where moderation has occurred, where

it has not, and why. Finally, I summarize my argument, explain my field

research methodology, and outline the coming chapters.

the limits of transitology

While critiques of the literature on transitions to democracy, or transi-

tology, have been around for years (Collier and Collier 1991; Adler and

Webster 1995; Bunce 1995, 2003; Cammack 1997; Tilly 2001; Carothers

2002), a broad and often explicit stages of democratization framework

continues to flourish in academic scholarship as well as in the policy

world. As McFaul notes (2002: 6), it is difficult to argue with the tran-sitions literature because proponents of strategic theories of democrati-

zation do not recognize a single theory despite obligatory reference to

Rustow (1970) and ODonnell and Schmitter (1986). Rustow suggests a

process-oriented model to understanding transitions to democracy, while

ODonnell and Schmitter focus on the dynamics of regimes that had begun

to move away from authoritarian rule. In defending his early work against

critics, ODonnell argues that he never suggested that democratization

unfolded in predictable stages or along a consistent path, or even thathe envisioned democracy as an end point (1996, 2002: 7). Regardless,

the paths to democracy framework continues to dominate many stud-

ies of democratic transitions (e.g., Diamond et al. 198890; Higley and


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Burton 1989; Przeworski 1991, 1993; Snyder 1992, 1998; Schmitter and

Karl 1991, 1994; Mainwaring et al. 1993; Linz and Stepan 1996; Collier

1999; Diamond 1999, 2000; Eikert and Kubik 1999) and overwhelms

policy debates.The resilience of this framework has an obvious normative under-

pinning among academics as well as policy makers: the desire to see

more states democratize. As Gendzier (1985), Cammack (1997), and Tilly

(2001) argue, this commitment has led many scholars to fail to distinguish

between explanations of democratization andprograms for the promotion

of democratization (e.g., ODonnell et al. 1986; Diamond et al. 198890;

Di Palma 1990; Linz and Stepan 1996; Diamond 1999). Others have

explicitly viewed the generation of new policies as a direct measure ofsuccessful scholarly studies (e.g., Diamond 2000: 1005; Nodia 2002:

18), even when these policies fail to produce the desired results. But if

programs for the promotion of democratization have seen few successes,

how have scholars fared in explaining actual processes of democratiza-

tion? In fact, we do not have a model of predicable stages and identifiable

processes replicated across cases.3 Even more troubling is that few schol-

ars explicitly acknowledge, as do Huntington (1991) and ODonnell and

Schmitter,4 that they aim to guide political leaders in countries entering the

early stages of transition. Yet the commitment to promoting democracy

is near universal in the literature, leading scholars to focus on classify-

ing various stages of transition and identifying obstacles that prevent this

process from moving forward. Many transitologists focus dispropor-

tionate attention on the role of elite actors because they play a dominant

role in initiating and guiding many transitions (e.g., Rustow 1970; Karl

1986, 1990, 1997; ODonnell et al. 1986; Share 1987; Higley and Burton

1989; Di Palma 1990; Huntington 1991; Przeworski 1991, 1993;

Rueschemeyer et al. 1992; Snyder 1992, 1998; Cohen 1994; Share andMainwaring 1996; Bratton and van de Walle 1997; Munck and Leff1997;

Hellman 1998; Higley et al. 1998; Motyl 1998; Haraszti 1999; Colomer

2000; Kalyvas 2000; Whitehead 2001a, 2001b). Some scholars (Adler

and Webster 1995; Bunce 1995; Collier 1999; Eikert and Kubik 1999;

3 Przeworski argues that even sophisticated statistical analyses indicate that transitions to

democracy are almost impossible to predict, even with the entire panopticum of observable

factors, economic or cultural (1998a: 137).4 [W]e are providing a useful instrument pieces of a map for those who are today

venturing, and who tomorrow will be venturing, on the uncertain path toward the

construction of democratic forms of political organization (ODonnell and Schmitter

1986: 5).


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Geddes 1999; Gill 2000; Wood 2000; Sanchez 2003) note that this has

led to systematic overlooking of the role of nonelite actors, while others

(Vitalis 1994; Cammack 1997) point out that most western-led pushes

for democratization (including much academic scholarship) tend to pri-oritize the promotion of global capitalism and pro-Western regimes over

democracy. More importantly, the majority of countries that had begun

transitions seem to be moving less toward democracy than evolving

into new forms of nondemocratic rule (Rose et al. 1998; Brumberg 2002;

McFaul 2002: 214; Nodia 2002: 1415). In fact, even major proponents

of transitology admit that successful transitions have proved to be more

the exception than the rule (ODonnell and Schmitter 1986: 3; Diamond

1999; Carothers 2002; McFaul 2002: 21213; ODonnell 2002: 7), rais-ing questions about comparability across such a wide swath of failed

cases.5 Nondemocratic governance certainly warrants scholarly attention,

but the focus on policy implications directs attention to getting coun-

tries back on track toward Fukuyamas liberal and democratic end of

history (1992).

At the same time, scholars of Middle East politics have been frustrated

that transitologists tend to systematically ignore cases from the Middle

East, some of which have been no less promising in their early stages

than those in other parts of the world.6 Regimes increasingly adopted

the rhetoric of democracy and initiated limited political openings in the

1980s and early 1990s, and regional experts adopted the vocabulary and

assumptions of models that specify paths, obstacles, and necessary, but

insufficient, conditions of democratization (e.g., Niblock and Murphy

1993; Crystal 1994; Salame 1994; Waterbury 1994; Brynen et al. 1995;

Norton 19956; Schwedler 1995; Esposito 1997; Ghadbian 1997; Quandt

1998; Mufti 1999; Bellin 2003). Eager to dispel lingering notions of

5 Bunce argues that in Schmitter and Karls call for scholars to apply transitions theory to

postcommunist contexts (1991, 1994), they fail to consider the possibility that comparing

cases from Latin America with postcommunist transitions may entail comparing apples

and oranges. The key question . . . is whether the differences constitute variations on a

common process that is, transitions from dictatorship to democracy or altogether dif-

ferent processes that is, democratization versus what could be termed postcommunism

(1995: 119). While she does not reject the potential for valuable comparative scholar-

ship, her concern about applying democratization theories to inappropriate cases is

well-founded.6 Among the large studies that ignore Middle East cases are ODonnell et al. ( 1986),

Diamond et al. (198890), Huntington (1991), and Linz and Stepan (1996). Michael

Hudson notes that as he prepared his 1987 presidential address for the Middle East Stud-

ies Association on the question of democratization in the region, colleagues and students

responded with incredulity at his choice of topic (1988: 157).


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Middle Eastern exceptionalism, regional specialists published innumer-

able books and articles about how Algeria, Bahrain, Egypt, Iran, Jordan,

Kuwait, Morocco, Tunisia, and Yemen started down the road to democ-

racy, though like many incipient transitions in other regions, these demo-cratic openings either stalled or had been aborted entirely.7 Even

democratic openings begun decades earlier, as in the cases of Lebanon and

Turkey, were seen as stalled somewhere short of full democracy. Middle

East scholars caught up to the work of transitologists and shared their

focus on identifying the causes of these failed transitions.

As suggested in the preceding text, one limitation of the focus on transi-

tions to democracy is that political change is assessed almost exclusively in

terms of progress along a continuum,

8

with many processes characterizedby stagnancy (in the case of stalled transitions) or a return to autocratic

practices (in aborted and failed transitions). This focus often obscures

the complex ways in which political institutions and practices are restruc-

tured even in cases where political openings do not progress very far. That

is, even limited openings may produce considerable dynamic change in

the public political space the practices and locales of political struggle

and these multidimensional restructurings demand systematic analysis.

Scholars should abandon the notion that the space between authori-

tarianism and democracy is characterized by a continuum of stages from

primitive, traditional, or patriarchal systems of rule (authoritarianism)

to modern, rational-legal systems of rule (democracy). Webs of possible

political trajectories depend not only on elite-level decisions but also on

popular mobilization, the particularities of each historical context, the dis-

cursive terms of political struggle, and regional and international factors.

In their study of how scholars characterize these variations, Collier and

Levitsky (1997) critique the often absurd ways in which ever new models

are forced into a democratization framework: formal democracy, semi-democracy, electoral democracy, facade democracy, pseudodemocracy,

7 Use of this language has the advantage of making Middle East politics comprehensible to

nonregional specialists, particularly transitologists who see the world in terms of democra-

cies, transitional states, and nondemocracies. In 2002 I wrote an article on the prospects for

democracy in Yemen for The Journal of Democracy. I titled the piece Yemens EmergingDemocracy, the language favored by Yemens nondemocratic regime, but with quotes

around the words emerging democracy to denote irony. The journals editors renamed

the article Yemens Aborted Opening, placing my analysis into a stalled democracy

framework. See Schwedler (2002).8 See Linz and Stepan (1996) and Diamond (2000: 95). Freedom House also posits a con-

tinuum, as its annual review of freedom in the world rates countries on a variety of issues,

but the result is a continuum from 7 (least free) to 1 (most free).


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weak democracy, partial democracy, illiberal democracy, and virtual

democracy. As Carothers argues, [b]y describing countries in the gray

zone as types of democracies, analysts are in effect trying to apply the tran-

sition paradigm to the very countries whose political evolution is callingthat paradigm into question (2002: 10). Instead, scholars should let go

of the transitions language and focus instead on comparative analysis

of these new forms of electoral nondemocracies (1014). Carothers

model of dominant-power politics, for example, better describes many

Middle Eastern regimes than the language of stalled democracy: limited

but still real political space, some political contestation by opposition

groups, and at least most of the basic institutional forms of democracy.

Yet one political grouping whether it is a movement, a party, an extendedfamily, or a single leader dominates the system in such a way that there

appears to be little prospect of alternation of power in the foreseeable

future (1112). Recent writings about this gray zone have advanced

new typologies of nondemocracy regimes and suggest that regimes reach

new equilibriums that seem to be quite durable (Lust-Okar and Jamal

2002).

But Bunces critique of the transitions literature is more devastating

than Carotherss. She argues that more is at stake than simply characteriz-

ing the type of regime accurately. What is open for negotiation is not just

the character of the regime but also the very nature of the state itself, not

just citizenship but also identity, not just economic liberalization but also

the foundation of a capitalist economy . . . not just amendment of the exist-

ing class structure but the creation of a new class system, not just a shift

in the balance of interests . . . but something much more fundamental: the

very creation of a range of new interests . . . not just modification of the

states foreign policies, but also a profound redefinition of the roles of the

state in the international system (1995: 121). In this regard, transitolo-gists and gray-zone scholars alike have focused disproportionate atten-

tion on changes in regime and elite-level politics, to the neglect of changes

in the broader public political space. While facade democracies should be

subject to critique, even specious reforms typically include an expansion

of political space in which diverse political groups can establish parties

and put forth political agendas for public debate. These new modes of

participation, though falling far short of democracy, nevertheless reshape

both the political space and the routine practices of political actors. There-fore, scholars need to think systematically about the precise ways in which

institutions and practices have changed in the face of the strategic deploy-

ment of limited democratic reforms by nondemocratic regimes.


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Moderates and Radicals

With a growing body of scholarship critiquing the emphasis of elite actors,

the once-common language characterizing key political actors as moder-

ates, soft-liners, or reformers, on the one hand, and radicals, hard-liners,

or stand-patters (those unwilling to undertake reforms), on the other

hand, has almost disappeared among scholars of democratic transitions

(e.g., Diamond 1999; Geddes 1999; Gill 2000; Angell 2001; Whitehead

2001a; Nodia 2002; ODonnell 2002) although they continue to play

prominent roles for scholars who still strive to refine the original tran-

sitions paradigm (Linz and Stepan 1996; Snyder 1998; McFaul 2002) or

theorize the persistence of neopatrimonial regimes in the face of pressures

for transition (Brownlee 2002). In the fields of Middle East and Islamicstudies, however, the notions of moderate and radical are still used

fairly consistently with respect to Islamist groups: moderates seek grad-

ual reform within the existing system, while radicals seek revolutionary

change often through the use of violence (Burgat 1993; Hadar 1993;

Kramer 1994, 1995a, 1995b; Roy 1994; Abed-Kotob 1995; Guazzone

1995; Norton 1995; Schwedler 1995, 1998; Tal 1995; Ali 1996; Esposito

and Voll 1996; Halliday 1996; Burgat and Dowell 1997; Esposito 1997;

Ismail 1998; Kurzman 1998; Boulby 1999; Moussalli 1999, 2001; Hefner2000; Kalyvas 2000; Kepel 2002; Hafez 2003; International Crisis Group

2003; Wedeen 2003; Wickham 2004; Lust-Okar 2005; Nasr 2005). While

a few scholars view all Islamists as engaged in a common political project

(the Islamization of all dimensions of state, society, and economy), the

majority use the term Islamist9 to describe diverse groups and practices

rather than as a single category of analysis. That is, they recognize that

the term Islamist captures, at most, a shared commitment to the imple-

mentation of Islamic Law (shari ah) in all spheres,10 but not the signifi-

cant variation in tactics, strategies, or even specific objectives. Those who

still favor the moderate-radical distinction argue that the terms usefully

capture variation in strategies and tactics toward existing regimes: mod-

erates work within the constraints of the existing political institutions and

practices, while radicals seek to overthrow the system entirely, perhaps

(though not necessarily) through the use of violence. In many ways, these

labels capture a distinction between the political strategies of Islamist

groups. In Jordan, Indonesia, Kuwait, Lebanon, Morocco, Pakistan, and

9 The term Islamicist is sometimes used rather than Islamist, but the object is the same.See, for example, Wedeen (2003).

10 The project emphasizing Islamic law is largely the domain of Sunni Islamists.


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Yemen, Islamist political parties operate legally and peacefully, contesting

elections, publishing newspapers, and participating in municipal councils

and parliaments. In Egypt, Tunisia, and Turkey, religious parties are for-

mally illegal, but known Islamists participate openly either as independentcandidates, in alliance with legal political parties, or as a party that does

not put forth an explicitly religious agenda. All of these groups can be

fairly labeled moderate with respect to political participation. To be sure,

our understanding of legal Islamist political parties is little advanced when

we lump them in the same category with violent underground organiza-

tions such as al-Qaida, Islamic Jihad, or certain Salifi groups, or even with

aboveground groups such as the Islamic Resistance Movement (HAMAS)

in Palestine and Hizb Allah in Lebanon, which both defend the use ofviolence in certain circumstances while adopting pluralist practices when

engaging other domestic political actors (Robinson 2004; Clark 2005b).

And as the International Crisis Group notes, the notion of moderates

and radicals usually boils down to distinguishing between those with

whom Western governments feel they can do business (the moderates)

and those with whom they cannot or will not (International Crisis Group

2005b: 2).

Yet because all Islamists are seen as ideological actors as embracing an

ideological position that might potentially clash with the basic norms and

practices of democratic governance their participation in these pluralist

(if not democratic) political processes creates no small amount of anxiety

for a range of actors. Domestic regimes, capitalist economic elites, foreign

donors, and secular opposition groups all express concern about the pos-

sibility of even moderate Islamists coming to power. Skeptics of Islamists

commitment to democracy often cite some Islamists efforts to strictly

impose shari ah, introduce gender segregation, and place limits on accept-

able forms of speech. Others point to anti-Semitism among many Islamistgroups and the extent to which even some moderates defend the use

of political violence under certain circumstances. Committed democrats,

critics argue, should reject violence at all times. Furthermore, many mod-

erate Islamists have launched harsh campaigns of intimidation and even

physical attack against secular intellectuals, threatening their jobs, their

marriages, and sometimes their lives. Still, most scholars and, increasingly,

even U.S. government officials insist that the distinction between moder-

ates and radicals provides a valuable means of understanding differencesin the practices as well as the political agendas of various Islamist groups.

A few scholars have in recent years put forth alternative typologies.

A report of the International Crisis Group, argues that the idea of Islamism


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as Islam in political mode is problematic because, first, it presupposed

that Islam per se is not political, whereas insofar as Islam is inherently

interested in matters of governance, in fact it is. Secondly, it presupposes

that all forms of Islamism are equally political, whereas in fact, there aresignificant distinctions in this regard between those forms that privilege

political activism, missionary activity, or violence. The report proposes

instead the notion of Islamic activism, divided into three types: politi-

cal, missionary, and jihadi (International Crisis Group 2005b: 1, fn. 1).

Alternatively, Zubaida (1993, 2001) and Ismail (1998, 2001) argue for

adding to moderates and radicals a third category, conservatives, to sig-

nify groups such as the Islamic scholars of al-Azhar, who have a symbi-

otic relationship with the Egyptian state that often clashes not only withEgypts radicals (such as Islamic Jihad) but also with its moderates (the

Muslim Brotherhood).

Each of these alternatives, while improving on earlier models, contin-

ues to label groups wholesale and focus the debate on whether a particu-

lar group is best characterized as moderate, radical, conservative, jihadi,

and so on. But like the binary moderate-radical categorization, applying

labels to groups or movements tends to ignore variation in position across

a range of issues and obscure internal party divisions. In my study with

Janine Astrid Clark of womens activism within Islamist parties (2003),we

illustrate the limitations of attempting to label particular groups, factions,

or individuals. Looking at a spectrum of positions that various Islamists

take on a range of issues, we argue that the terms moderate and radical

might be applied to some positions on a particular issue, but hold little

analytic value as wholesale categories of political actors. An individual

Islamist, for example, may hold moderate views with respect to partici-

pation in pluralist elections, but not concerning the right of women to par-

ticipate. Or, he or she11 may hold moderate views about economic reform,but radical views about adherence to religious texts. As an alternative, we

advocate the use of categories of analysis that capture positions on precise

issues. For example, terms such as accommodationistand nonaccommo-

dationist may be used with respect to political participation, while the

terms contextualist and legalist may be used to capture how closely an

actor adheres to literal readings of religious texts. These differences are

stark among various actors and even more complex within and between

11 Although the overwhelming majority of Islamist leaders are male, Islamist movements

are not without female activists, though they have received little systematic attention

from scholars. See Clark and Schwedler (2003) and Taraki (2003).


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whole groups. This distinction between labeling political actors and label-

ing particular positions is crucial for the question of moderation, as it cuts

closer to the question of ideological commitments than do most studies

emphasizing only whether groups seek change by working inside or out-side of the existing political system. In this study, I use a much more

narrow and precise definition of moderation than any of those outlined

in the preceding text. I describe this definition in detail in the following

text and in Chapters 4 and 5.

the inclusion-moderation hypothesis

The scholars and policy makers who argue in favor of including Islamistsin democratic processes frequently defend their positions not on norma-

tive grounds that all voices should be included but on practical and

sometimes strategic grounds that including Islamists will both promote

moderation and reduce radicalism. Inclusion is seen as a mechanism for

deflating radical opposition voices, promoting tolerance and pluralism,

and perhaps even advancing a democratization process. But the inclusion-

moderation hypothesis is not unique to the transitions paradigm. In fact,

large and varied bodies of literature deploy some version of the idea that

inclusion produces moderation in behavior, practices, or beliefs. Scholars

and theorists as diverse as liberals (J. S. Mill 1859) and social democrats

(Habermas 1989) espouse variations of this idea in terms of promoting the

vibrant public space essential for democracy. Public debate is highly val-

ued in a democratic political system not only because public deliberation

can be a democratic process but also because it exposes individuals and

groups to the concerns, beliefs, and methods of reasoning with others. At

a minimum, interaction reinforces the recognition of multiple worldviews

and interpretations of how existing problems may be resolved.The most common formulation of this argument is that institutions

shape political behavior by creating constraints and opportunities, which

in turn structure the choices available to political actors. If this is correct,

even limited political liberalization, such as the legalization of political

parties or the holding of elections, should shape the practices of those

who choose to participate. The challenge is to channel dissenting voices

and competing groups into state-controlled spaces of political contesta-

tion by providing opposition voices with immediate incentives (e.g., legalstatus, the right to publish a newspaper, and the ability to put forth alter-

native political agendas) and the promise of future political gains (e.g.,

access to political power through elections). If an opposition group agrees


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to play by the rules of the game, the regime will permit increased space

for the group to pursue its political agenda. These rules of the game are,

of course, set and maintained by the regime, but they are also subject to

public debate. Through this process opposition voices gradually becomemore moderate as they recognize the benefits of continued participation.

Moderation is thus produced through a combination of new structural

constraints and the strategic choices of political actors.12 For example,

Huntington proposes a participation-moderation trade-off in which

radicals moderate their political agendas and agree to play by the rules

of the game to become eligible to take advantage of institutional open-

ings (1991: 16572). The inclusion-moderation hypothesis also emerges

in rational choice debates, for example, concerning credible commitments(Kalyvas 2000), co-optation (Lichbach 1995: 1913), strategic behav-

ior within institutional constraints (Przeworski 1985; Share 1985, 1987;

Przeworski and Sprague 1986; Przeworski 1991, 1993; Roberts 1995;

Share and Mainwaring 1996; Kalyvas 2000), and the conditions under

which both state and nonstate actors see this trade-off as politically viable

(Przeworski 1985, 1991; Cohen 1994). In the vast literature on political

parties, inclusion is seen to create constraints on groups that gradually

become caught up in the mechanics of building and sustaining a viable

political party (Michels 1962; Keck 1992). Similarly, in debates about

social movements political opportunity structures shape the behavior of

political actors by making certain modes of political contestation more

viable and less costly than others (Gamson 1990; McAdam et al. 1996;

Giugni et al. 1998; Goodwin and Jasper 2003, 2004). Other social move-

ment theorists have long argued that inclusion leads movements to institu-

tionalize and deradicalize as leaders need to focus on defending their posi-

tions (Lowi 1971) or to evolve from principled opposition to engagement

in formal, pragmatic politics (Piven and Cloward 1977). Certain polit-ical opportunity structures, such as those that provide legal outlets for

political organization, can also decrease the likelihood of revolutionary

mobilization (Zald and Ash Garner 1987: 1256; Kriesi 1989; Goldstone

1998). These and other theories of political constraints are discussed in

greater detail in Chapters 2 and 3.

But as noted in the preceding text, arguments about inclusion and

exclusion often envision a single continuum whereby more inclusion

equates to more moderation as well as less radicalism. Conflating

12 As Polletta notes, this dichotomous view of ideology and strategy has dominated much

of the literature on participatory democracy as well (2002: 5).


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inclusion and exclusion in this manner has a tendency to obscure com-

plex processes and offer little in terms of precise hypotheses about the

effects of inclusion and exclusion. For example, entangled in the inclusion-

moderation hypothesis are several distinct propositions. Inclusion mayincrease moderation by a variety of methods, including:

Turning radicals into moderates (thus reducing the number of radicals

and increasing the number of moderates),

Turning fence-sitters (those teetering between moderation and radical-

ism) into moderates (thus increasing the number of moderates without

necessarily reducing the number of radicals),

Leading moderates to adopt even more moderate positions than they

held previously, and/or Providing moderates with opportunities to increase their visibility and

efficacy (without necessarily changing the number of moderates or

radicals).

These hypotheses about moderation, which focus on the orientation of

political actors vis- `a-vis the existing political system, are further entan-

gled with questions concerning the support bases commanded by various

groups. In this connection inclusion may produce an overall effect of

moderation by:

Increasing the support base for moderates while reducing the support

base for radicals,

Increasing the support base for moderates without decreasing the sup-

port base for radicals, and/or

Decreasing the support base for radicals without increasing the support

base for moderates.

In each of these cases, moderates see a relative gain in support base com-pared to radicals.

Any of these changes could produce the appearances of an increase in

moderation when in fact very different processes or combinations of pro-

cesses may be responsible. For example, changes in the number of moder-

ates and radicals may or may not be connected to changes in the size of the

support base for moderates and radicals. Or, an apparent increase in mod-

eration may have little to do with whether political actors have actually

changed their positions on particular issues. Instead, the outcome may beone of creating opportunities for certain political actors while disadvan-

taging others. That is, inclusion may not turn radicals into moderates, but

rather deny radicals the support base that provides political advantage.


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It may not lead political actors to change their views so much as to ele-

vate the position of certain actors at the expense of others. Even taking

the inclusion-moderation hypothesis on its own (rather than in combi-

nation with the exclusion-radicalism hypothesis), we must be very clearabout unpacking both inclusion and moderation to assess precisely what

has changed and why.

The diverse bodies of literature noted in the preceding text all empha-

size the role of institutional constraints in shaping political behavior in

ways that suggest how inclusion may increase moderation. But these for-

mulations do not offer a theory or model for explaining ideational change,

that is, precisely how a political actor may come to hold more moderate

views and objectives as a result of inclusion. In particular, they are unableto deal with the question of whether an actor is sincere in her apparent

acceptance of the rules of the game, or whether she is secretly waiting for

the opportunity to implement a radical agenda. Rational choice theory,

for example, offers much in the way of understanding institutional con-

straints and does acknowledge that preferences may change, but it treats

preferences as relatively stable and offers no theory of preference change.

As the most well-developed literature on institutional constraints, rational

choice cannot as such explain ideological moderation.

Other bodies of literature come closer. In the vast literature on iden-

tity, proximity to and interaction with diverse groups are sometimes said

to lead to more complex identities, therefore lessening the rigidity and

therefore the potential for violence around particular identity divides.

The literature on political learning also posits that beliefs and agendas can

evolve over time as political actors engage in forms of pluralist participa-

tion. Through accumulated experience, political actors learn, an evolu-

tionary process that reshapes ideas, beliefs, and political agendas (Bermeo

1992; Wickham 2004). Here, learning is treated as the mechanism formoderation. But how and what do actors learn? What if the experiences

are of institutional fatigue and the inability to realize substantive reform

by working within the system? Even more, what if the experiences of inclu-

sion result in bloodshed and trauma, rather than participatory politics?

Inclusion could result in this sort of outcome if a dominant actor is threat-

ened by the inclusion of a challenger and results to extra-institutional

means of competition. This happened in the case of the Yemeni Socialist

Party, when its leaders and members were targeted in hundreds of assas-sination attempts by political challengers in the early years of unification.

Indeed, actors may learn very different lessons through participation in

similar processes. Even more problematic is how to explain why two


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political actors with comparable experiences do not necessarily learn in

the same way. Asserting that some learned while others do not, skates

dangerously close to description rather than explanation.

In widely diverse bodies of literature, exposure to different perspectivesis seen to lead to increased levels of tolerance.13 In the conflict resolution

literature, for example, the contact hypothesis argues that intergroup con-

tact reduces intergroup prejudice and therefore will likely facilitate conflict

resolution and promote overall tolerance, including toward groups with

whom one has had no contact at all (Williams 1947; Allport 1954; Petti-

grew and Tropp 2003).14 But as Mutz has argued, the empirical evidence

supporting a relation between exposure to conflicting viewpoints and

political tolerance is actually extremely thin (2002: 111). Some scholars ofthe protracted conflict in Northern Ireland reject the contact hypothesis

entirely due to extensive evidence of its failure (Whyte 1991; McGarry and

OLeary 1995). And yet, policy makers and foundations seem to have bot-

tomless reserves of funds to support intergroup contact, all in the belief

that the intergroup contacts will, if not resolve conflicts, prevent them

from escalating or emerging altogether (Varshney 2002). Finally, the lit-

erature on deliberative democracy, while taking the work of Habermas

in various directions, tends to emphasize the positive role of substan-

tive deliberative exchange in building or supporting democratic, pluralist

processes. Poletta, for example, argues that the deliberative dimensions of

participatory democracy may build meaningful relationship among par-

ticipants as they recognize the legitimacy of the thinking and reasoning

of others (2002: 9).

Despite the ubiquity of various incarnations of the inclusion-

moderation hypothesis, however, surprisingly few scholars have con-

ducted in-depth case studies aimed at evaluating the specific claim that

inclusion leads to moderation. In many cases, success stories are toldabout actors who certainly qualify as moderate, but who were never really

radical in the sense of seeking to entirely overthrow the existing political

order in the first place (e.g., see Messara 1993; Kramer 1995a, 1995b;

Norton 1995; Esposito 1997; Boulby 1999; Wiktorowicz 2001; Hafez

2003: 2765; Wickham 2004). These scholars are not wrong to charac-

terize these groups as moderate, but they imply (if not state explicitly)

that political inclusion led these groups to become moderate. Further-

more, they often fail to specify that they are referring to positions on one

13 Mutz provides a useful review of this literature (2002).14 For a critique of this literature, see Ford (1986).


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particular issue (democratic participation), and instead label actors as

either moderates or radicals. In other studies, the inclusion-moderation

hypothesis is asserted as the self-evident inverse of the idea that exclu-

sion leads to radicalism. Like the inclusion-moderation hypothesis, theexclusion-radicalism hypothesis has seen mixed empirical evidence: some

studies support the idea that exclusion (and particularly repression) pro-

duces radicalism (Abd Allah 1983; Kepel 1986; Burgat 1993; Anderson

1997; Esposito 1997; Moussalli 1999, 2001; Fearon and Laitin 2003;

Hafez 2003; Kodmani 2005), while other scholars have found that polit-

ical repression is not a reliable predictor of conflict and radicalism

(Lichbach 1987; Davenport 2000, 2005; Earl 2003; Wickham 2004).

In any case, measuring an increase in moderation as a result of politicalinclusion has proved exceptionally difficult. In terms of the most common

definition of moderation working within a political system rather than

trying to overthrow it groups lacking a history of using political violence

against a regime cannot necessarily be counted among those who have

moderated as a result of their inclusion. Moderation may entail relative

increases in tolerance, but this is not the argument that is implied. Instead,

the primary normative appeal of the inclusion-moderation hypothesis is

that inclusion may deflate radicalism and turn revolutionaries into reform-

ers, not that moderates may become more moderate. This observation

has significant import for the Middle East, where most Islamist groups

that work for change through existing political systems were never really

radical on these terms. That is, as case studies they do not necessarily

lend empirical support to the inclusion-moderation hypothesis because

most Islamist groups have sought gradual (rather than revolutionary)

political change, at least in terms of the reforming the political system.

Most branches of the Muslim Brotherhood, the movement founded in

Egypt by Hassan al-Banna (190649) in 1928, have long sought reformfrom within the existing system, often starting with education reform

and literacy programs, but also counterposing Islamic political ideas to

Western-style democracy. Contemporary Islamist groups as diverse as

Turkeys Reform, Virtue, and Justice parties,15 Jordans IAF and Muslim

Brotherhood,16 Moroccos Justice and Development Party,17 Indonesias

15 In Turkish, Refah Partisi, Fadila Partisi, and Ak Partisi, respectively. For more informa-tion, see Gole (1995), Yavuz (1997), and White (2002).

16 In Arabic, Jama at al-Ikhwan al-Muslimin. For more information, see Adams (1996),Milton-Edwards (1996), Robinson (1997, 1998b), Schwedler (1997), Boulby (1999),

Mufti (1999), Wiktorowicz (2001), and Moaddel (2002).17 In French, Parti de la Justice et du Developpement.


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Prosperous Justice Party,18 Egypts Muslim Brotherhood and Wasat

party,19 Lebanons Hizbollah,20 Yemens Islah party,21 Kuwaits three

Islamist parties,22 Tunisias Islamic Renaissance Movement,23 and

Pakistans Jamaat i-Islami24 all might qualify as moderate because theydo not seek to overthrow their regime through violent means. Here the

attention to moderation on a specific issue is essential, as many of these

groups support the use of political violence outside of their own coun-

try. Some have secret militant wings, though they may never have been

activated. Likewise, these groups may envision dramatically different end

points, many of which would entail radical political and social change

even if they are to be achieved through gradual reform. Some of them

have long been allied with the ruling regime, while others have workedquietly and peacefully as opposition parties. Still others have worked as

moderates under certain regimes while engaging in less moderate prac-

tices under other regimes. Substantively, their agendas and political pro-

grams show considerable variation. As argued in the preceding text, these

practices significantly complicate the notion of a binary moderate-radical

categorization and its use for analytical purposes.

What these cases do illustrate, however, is that many regimes began

including Islamists in state-controlled political processes decades before

the democratic openings of the 1980sand 1990s. In fact, a large number

of radical Islamist groups such as Egypts Gama at al-Islamiyyah, vari-

ous incarnations ofHizb al-Tahrir, many offshoots of Islamic Jihad, and

certain Salafi groups emerged as dissident movements frustrated with

the integrative approaches of mainstream Islamist groups (Kepel 1986,

2002; Abu-Amr 1994; Roy 1994; Milton-Edwards 1996; Wiktorowicz

2001). Many of their members had defected from other groups, inspired

by events in Iran in 19789 to seek revolutionary change through radical

means. This distinction is crucial, as it emphasizes the notion that inclu-sion may be a means of isolating radicals from mainstream movements by

denying them a large, popular support base, as argued in the preceding

18 Partai Keadilan Sejahtera.19 In Arabic, Jama at al-Ikhwan al-Muslimin and Hizb al-Wasat. For more information, see

Mitchell (1969), Kepel (1986), Ismail (1998), Zubaida (2001), and Wickham (2004).20 In English, Party of God. For more information, see Hamzeh (1993, 1998), Jaber (1997),

and Saad-Ghorayeb (2002).21 In addition to this book, see Dresch and Haykel (1995) and Schwedler (2003a).22 For more information, see Ghabra (1997).23 In Arabic, Harakat al-Nahda al-Islamiyya. For more information, see Dunn (1993),

Shahin (1997), and Burgat and Dowell (1997).24 In English, Islamist Group. See Nasr (1994).


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text. In this formulation, inclusion provides moderates with incentives

to defect from moderate-radical alliances, to isolate radicals within their

midst, and to shun radical political strategies in the first place. For groups

that choose to take advantage of political openings and engage in pluralistpractices, inclusion may be a mechanism for making them more moderate

on certain issues than they had been previously. Even more complicating,

some regimes seem to be as threatened by moderate groups as they are by

radical groups. In Egypt, for example, Mubaraks regime has shunned the

inclusion of moderate Islamists and sought instead to co-opt the clerics

of al-Azhar as the regimes Islamic face while consistently excluding and

repressing even the most moderate voices, such as al-Wasat (which has

never received a license to operate legally as a political party).While these various propositions need to be unpacked, at the very least

there appears to be little evidence supporting the idea that inclusion

let alone democratization will completely eliminate radicalism. Most

democracies still see radical groups emerge with regularity, but these

groups are widely considered fringe or extremist by popular measure

and command comparatively miniscule followings. For analytical clarity,

therefore, we need to be very precise about what processes are at work

when making causal arguments about the connection(s) between inclusion

and moderation, both in terms of particular cases as well as in building

theory.

The Stakes of Moderation

In the broadest terms, then, diverse bodies of literature argue that inclu-

sion will moderate oppositional actors either by 1) subjecting them

to institutional constraints, or 2) exposing them to alternative views. In

either case, the implied result is a reduction of radical challenges to thepolitical system. In regime-led inclusion, the ruling elite win by deflat-

ing the radical opposition and gaining the ability to closely monitor legal

opposition groups. Opposition groups benefit from the freedom to put

forth alternative political agendas and the possibility of winning seats in

parliament. Unfortunately, the possibility remains that a group may obtain

power through inclusive channels without having become moderate. The

paradox of democracy, for example, is the idea that democratic pro-

cesses might produce an undemocratic outcome. The concept is gener-ally applied to the practical problem that a political group may come to

power through democratic elections only to impose a nondemocratic sys-

tem. In theory as well as practice, the possibility of this less-than-desirable

outcome often serves to justify continued exclusion and repression. The


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literature on institutional constraints can neither recognize such feigned

moderation, nor explain how and why moderation does sometimes take

place. The literature on commitment problems recognizes that previously

radical actors may have difficulty making credible commitments aboutparticipation (Kalyvas 2000), but it can only explore this puzzle of sig-

naling and not whether or particularly why moderation has indeed

taken place. But if a democratic system can only tolerate democrats those

who accept the legitimacy of democratic processes, either for normative

reasons (Gutmann and Thompson 1996) or, minimally, as a means of pro-

cessing conflict and preserving future opportunities (Przeworski 1991)

then those uncommitted to those processes and practices must be excluded

to guarantee the preservation of the system.Is it therefore possible to distinguish between moderation that is super-

ficial, and substantive moderation characterized by truly increased toler-

ance and even acceptance of those with diverse views? The core issue

of moderation is ideological commitments, rather than only behavior.

Because we can never know what is in the heart of any political actor,

how can we determine which political actors are playing by the rules of

the game, but secretly harboring radical agendas, and which have become

more tolerant, moderate, and pluralist? Those skeptical of Islamist partic-

ipation in elections frequently point to the rise of the Nazi party in Weimar

Germany. The analogy is powerful because the National Socialist party

exploited participatory institutional channels to gain power, but it is not

an example of a radical movement coming to power exclusively through

electoral success.25 The Nazi party never received an electoral majority,

and its rise relied not only on weak institutional constraints but also on

coersion and the intimidation of challengers (Berman 2001). Yet those

most suspicious that Islamist groups harbor nondemocratic intentions

often draw an analogy with the Nazi party, suggesting that democrats anddemocratic reformers should be cautious of Islamists because their claims

of adherence to democratic norms are suspect. The possibility that any

political actor may harbor a radical agenda behind a democratic facade is

always a factor in democratic processes, and leaves us with the apparent

puzzle of not knowing whether political actors are truly committed to

democratic processes.

In his study of confessional politics through comparative analysis of

the emergence of Christian democratic political parties in Europe, Kalyvasargues that the fact that groups may certainly hold antidemocratic agen-

das is unproblematic as long as institutions are set up in such a way as

25 It received a high of only 37.8 percent of the vote in the July 1932 election.


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to safeguard the democratic process (1996, 1998a). Even if such groups

managed to come to power, the system would provide checks on their abil-

ity to reshape the system, thus preserving the integrity of the democratic

processes. Like other rational choice theorists, Kalyvas rests his moder-ation explanation on the logic of strategic participation within institu-

tional constraints, where ideological change follows the decision to par-

ticipate (see also Przeworski and Sprague 1986). In theory, then, effectively

functioning democratic institutions should process conflict as Przeworski

imagines, bringing losers back to the table to try again while preventing

pseudodemocrats from hijacking the system. But these formulations offer

no theory of ideational change and no mechanism to explain why some

political actors become moderate while others in similar circumstancesdo not. Thus the central problem to the inclusion-moderation hypothesis

remains: how can we know with certainty whether a political actor has

become more moderate in her views as a direct result of inclusion, and

what mechanism(s) explain that change.

Furthermore, the logic of strategic behavior within institutional con-

straints provided by a democratic system offers little for understanding

moderation within the gray-zone regimes characterized by weak institu-

tions, as are common in much of the world. In this regard, analogies to

Christian Democratic parties in Europe thus have limited comparative

value in exploring the effects of inclusion when the political systems in

question fall far short of democracy, as they do in most of the Middle

East. In these cases, incipient political openings do not provide the sorts

of institutional guarantees that would prevent the system from succumb-

ing to the paradox of democracy. Indeed, regimes have proven to be

among the most duplicitous and skillful actors, strategically deploying

democratic rhetoric for both domestic and international audiences with-

out producing or even intending to produce meaningful reforms. In thesecases, scholarly analyses often focus on sham elections, weak civil soci-

ety organizations, and the manipulation of the liberalization processes by

the regime. Because the inclusion-moderation hypothesis is viewed in the

context of a larger process of meaningful democratic transition, we have

few analytic tools to examine moderation through inclusion in gray-zone

regimes. Can we assess moderation if the liberalization process in general

has not gone forward? According to the approach that views institutional

constraints as the primary mechanism for encouraging continued partici-pation, one would need to see those institutions function in a democratic

manner to judge whether they actually provide the incentives to keep

opposition forces engaged. When these institutions fail to provide such

inducements, as in the context of stalled democratization processes, the


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transitions framework of analysis provides no means of testing whether

inclusion is a sufficient mechanism for producing moderation in the views

and practices of political actors because inclusion typically suggests inclu-

sion in democratic processes.In sum, I argue that the inclusion-exclusion hypothesis conflates a vari-

ety of hypotheses about the causal relations between repression, inclusion,

radicalism, and moderation. In this book, I explore what I believe is the

most challenging dimension of inclusion: the idea that inclusion in plural-

ist political processes may lead political actors to gradually adopt a more

open and tolerant worldview than the one they held prior to such partici-

pation. Despite the importance of this question, precisely how moderation

is produced through inclusion is seldom examined through detailed casestudies. Instead, the presence of moderate groups is often correlated with

the existence of pluralist processes, and the robustness of that correla-

tion takes the force of a causal argument even though the specific (and

likely numerous) mechanisms are treated together as inclusion. To move

beyond this pitfall, I seek to identify specific mechanisms that produce

moderation. I wish to be clear that I do not suggest a model in which repli-

cated processes will mechanistically produce identical results, but rather

a process-tracing model in which identifying sequences of mechanisms

unpacks complex processes and explains change over time (McAdam et al.

2001). My study is not exhaustive of these mechanisms, but rather seeks

to begin specifying mechanisms that might be tested, expanded, and/or

refuted through future comparative study.

To create an empirical base to explore this notion, I begin by assessing

change within particular groups and then explore those changes compar-

atively. I avoid simply asserting that some ill-defined moderation has

taken place or reproducing correlations that count how many included

groups are moderate and how many excluded groups are radical. In thisregard, identifying specific mechanisms is as crucial as observing whether

moderates were in fact radicals at the outset. I use a structured compar-

ative model to explore precisely how, and even whether, political actors

become more moderate as a result of their participation in pluralist politi-

cal practices, even in contexts that fall far short of meaningful democracy.

unpacking moderation

Scholarship that asserts some version of the inclusion-moderation hypoth-

esis tends to focus on one of three phenomena: 1) the strategic behavior of

moderates and radicals working within particular structural constraints;

2) attitudinal evidence about varying levels of tolerance between inclusive


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and exclusive political actors; or, less commonly, 3) the evolution of a

political actor in terms of her actions, beliefs, and objectives before and

after political inclusion. At the very least we can say that moderation

entails multifaceted change. I focus on practice, not only whata politicalactor does but also the meanings she ascribes to her actions and choices

within her specific (and often changing) political context. Moderation

may be encouraged by changes in the broader public political space, for

example through structural factors such as the legalization of new forms

of political organization. And it may also be encouraged through such

changing discursive constraints as the elevation of a particular vocabu-

lary for framing political debates. I examine the internal dynamics and

debates of two Islamist groups the IAF in Jordan and the Islah partyin Yemen as well as their engagement with political actors and pro-

cesses external to their group. Of particular interest is the extent to which

practices and relations continue to evolve even in the context of stalled

democratization in Jordan and Yemen. In these gray-zone regimes, the

political openings have fallen far short of democratization. Consequently,

we cannot assess moderation of Islamists in Jordan and Yemen as a func-

tion of participation in fully functioning democratic processes. But in each

case the political space is significantly changed from what it was prior to

the political openings in question, and I examine the impact of these mul-

tifaceted changes.

Jordans IAF and Yemens Isl

Faith in Moderation Islamist Parties in Jordan and Yemen

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